I feel like such an asshole.

Seriously, if you knew a shit storm (no toilet paper panic buying pun intended) that would effect most people in the world was on the way, where would you choose to be holed up?

Sure, a self sufficient tropical island would be up there, but frankly, my current situation is preferable. Perhaps this should be called, “Greetings from my White Privilege Summer Camp”.

I am currently under lockdown in a small village called Pettneu in the Austrian Alps, just outside of St Anton am Arlberg. I am not sure of the population here, but definitely not large enough to constitute panic buying:

On Friday the 13th (no you can’t make that up), the ski season came to a very abrupt halt. I hear that it was mayhem and panic: must have been frightening for them. For the last nine days I have watched it all unfold from the comfort of the kitchen whilst eating delicious Tirolean meats and cheeses.

Rather than trying to articulate in a coherent story, I am just going to go ahead and outline why I am not freaking the out in point form (and there may be an insinuation that if I was freaking out that would be overly indulgent, considering that basically everyone but me has every right to freak the out).

THE TIROLEAN GOVERNMENT MOVED EFFICIENTLY

So I am going to try my best to avoid profanities from here on in (just for sport as there is none of that to watch either). Basically, the Tirolean Government articulated perfectly the severity of the situation, and there was no more messing around.

There has been precise and articulate communication on a daily basis, and any queries answered down to the intricate nuances of social distancing (I just wish i had a dog).

I hope that I have understood all the information correctly as google translate is not always 100%. On the upside, when I sent the illegal workers from my basement out into the cold of the night they never came back.

I didn’t have to go anywhere

I was already “home” when the storm rolled in, and for the last 9 days I have watched everyone’s lives been thrown into turmoil. Scrambles to get home, life savings gone just to do so and basic uncertainty. Tirol is totally tourism based, so there are many seasonal workers who are wither stuck, broke or both. The enormity and impact on everyone’s lives is unfathomable. Luckily for me, my only immediate family is holed up in St Anton baking bread. Totally unrelated, I have been thinking about divorce statistics when all of this is over.

I live in a small village with nice neighbours

I am out of the hub of St Anton, which has been under different conditions to us. In St Anton, there are tourists and workers under quarantine, and when these conditions change to match the rest of Tirol there will be many people trying to work out a way to get home and cross borders.

Here, I have accepted my solitude with open arms. To be honest, normally in May it is this quiet, and well, after 10 Winter seasons I hate people by March anyway. My neighbour feels the same: says he’s got schnapps and peace and quiet: life’s basic essentials. I concur.

Ah, the serenity.

The neighbours on the other side of me alleviate the need for a TV… A borderline geriatric brother and sister whose simple affectionate morning greeting makes it sound like World War III is beginning. Yes. I see the irony.

Adding to this, his balcony is opposite my back kitchen window, so we greet each other when out smoking. Double bonus: he has an epic porn collection, so I can watch too from my kitchen window 20 meters away whilst adhering to social distancing specifications (I don’t think he knows it’s a “Watch Party” though).

No Panic Buying

Normally at this time of the year I have no problem with the word “panic” as it is “Panic Shag” time and that my friends, is a real local pandemic: there is none of that this year in Pettneu.

Frankly, there is no panic anywhere, so it is with disdain and slight amusement that i observe Muppets and Muggles of the world go bonkers for toilet paper and hand sanitiser.

If there is any panic buying at all in this town it would be, as a friend Andrew pointed out, the supermarket panic stocking toilet paper. My daily outing to the supermarket involves hand sanitiser, friendly greetings, and total appreciation for the front line warriors.

Yes, we tip them and give them flowers instead of hurling profanities at them.

Almost TeeTotalling Tash

For that last year or so I have been transitioning from being a booze soaked cougar to, well, um, something different (a work in progress). Rather than practicing mindfulness I have been practicing awesomeness, and hitting the gym, not the bottle.

I have let my evil twin off the bus on a few occasions, but last time i saw her was somewhere in Innsbruck, and, well, considering that was most likely the route that Covid 19 took from Italy to Austria, I am guessing that that the beer swilling, nail biting, chain smoking version of me was in the path of destruction.

She did make a special guest appearance for the first few days of this Apocalypse, but as she does not hold an Austrian passport I sent her out into the dark to fend for herself.

Channeling Sporty Spice

So, last year in Winter I guzzled and gulped in ginormous proportions , which left me with a glutinous grimace. Yep, I achieved the trifecta of muffin top, camel toe and VPL. I took drastic and strict measures after the season to change that, and dropped 10kg through kickboxing.

I was feeling so fit when I came back that i decided to start training for the Weisse Rausch: a kamikaze ski race boasting a mix of balls, craziness and endurance. You know, bucket list thing. So all season, I have been eating healthily, going to the gym and skiing at every available opportunity.

I thought I was training for a ski race, not the apocalypse, but hey whatever gets you out in the backyard doing squats and lunges with 2 cans of home brand baked beans.

“Plank this” is what I like to say to the pandemic.